


The lost dagger of G’narv

by Verhalengrot



Series: Adventures in a fantasy realm [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Danger, Enemies to Friends, Gen, Legends, Magical Weapons, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Mythical Weapons, Mythology References, Original Fiction, Original Legends, Original Mythology, Swordfighting, Swords, Swords & Sorcery, Treasure Hunting, Uneasy Allies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-26 01:06:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13846827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verhalengrot/pseuds/Verhalengrot
Summary: The lost dagger of G'narv is something many had tried to find, but so far no-one has succeeded. Will one man be able to find it? And if so, what will he do with it?





	The lost dagger of G’narv

The city of Arnheim bristled with life as humans and human-like creatures walked across the paved street. A group of three woman were chatting while carrying grocery baskets filled with bread, potatoes and carrots. Two dwarves were engaged in conversation, telling each other how weak the human ale was, nothing like the decent dwarven stout they were used to. Some children ran across the street with sticks in their hands and hoops rolling in front of them, judging by the laughter they enjoyed their game of hoop rolling. Street merchants were advertising their wares in loud voices, walking around and showed fine jewellery and other items to potential costumers and a baker walked around with a basket filled with bread in the hopes to sell the remaining loafs. A horse pulling a cart filled with grain neighed and the farmer on the seat gently pulled the reins. A bit further down the road was a man who pushed a handcart filled with baskets forward and looked at a group of fur-covered bear-like humans that came from the opposite direction.

The creatures had fur ranging from golden-brown to black and only wore a single-colour loincloth in the colour red, purple, blue, green, yellow or orange. Some had a band on their arm in the same colour as the loincloth. They seemed to be engaged in casual conversation amongst themselves, but they received hidden and sometimes distrusting glances where they went.

When the sound of metal against stone filled the street the man with the cart looked back and quickly pushed his cart towards the side of the street. A group of ten knights in full armour and with their visor down marched over the street and people quickly stepped aside to let them pass. The tunic with light-blue and white vertical bands covered the chainmail and feathers in similar colours adorned the helmets.

From one of the tables in front of a tavern a man with short, chestnut-coloured hair looked at the knights as he brought a mug to his lips. The brown and beige clothes were dirty from travelling and the worn out boots seemed in need of replacement. The chair next to him was occupied by an older man, who’s short black hair had strands of grey in them and his moustache was almost completely grey. The clothing matched that of the knights, with the exception of a triple gold star in the area of his heart.

“What’s on your mind, Trevor?” the older man asked.

Trevor didn’t answer the question as he examined the knights. He knew it was just a standard patrol, but for some reason people were in awe when they saw them pass. Deciding he had looked the knights long enough, he moved his attention towards the bear-like creatures and his eyes narrowed.

“No reason to look like that, my friend,” he said after he looked in the same direction as Trevor did. “It is peace with them for almost two years now.”

“I still don’t trust them,” Trevor grumbled, followed by a big gulp of ale.

“You can’t forget the war, can you?”

Trevor glared at him. “Should I, Bendul? That was a bloody war and many humans died.”

“Many Bardugs too,” Bendul sighed before he too drank from his mug. With the back of his hand he wiped away some of the foam that remained in his moustache and he placed the mug back on the table. “War is always a terrible thing. Be glad it’s peace now.”

Trevor grumbled something inaudible and emptied his mug in one last gulp. When he placed it back on the table the silence remained between the two. Both seemingly lost in memories.

“Have you considered coming back to the army?” Bendul suddenly asked.

“No,” Trevor answered curtly as he looked his friend straight in the eyes.

“You haven’t considered, or…”

“I don’t want to come back. I’m perfectly happy with my life now. I live by myself, I earn some money by guiding people through the forest and I don’t have to take orders from anyone.”

“Not that you did before…” Bendul said, without looking at Trevor.

Trevor sighed, but he couldn’t stop a small smile from forming. That was true, he had been called insubordinate on more than one occasion, but it never had lead to anything more then a reprimand. For some reason Bendul had always given him leniency and he got away with more then most, if not all, other officers. Maybe he hadn’t always listened to his superior officers and maybe he hadn’t always followed the rules, but at least he got things done where other failed. Again a silence fell over the table as Trevor recalled how he was recruited by Bendul into the army, back then the man was a major and he started as a soldier. The war with the Bardugs was the second war he served in, the first was against their neighbouring country and. It was a war that lasted for three years, but they won. Because of how he took control when the officers of their unit were all dead he was promoted to lieutenant and by the end of the war he was a captain. Bendul himself was promoted to general, a rank he still carried. During the war against the Bardugs Trevor was fed-up with it and he put in his resignation as soon as the peace-talks began. They stayed friends afterward, Bendul and Trevor, and often shared a drink together, like this day. “I discovered where the dagger of G’narv is kept,” he told his friend.

“And you want to go after it.”

“Of course, I wanted it ever since you told me about it. A dagger belonging to the old dwarven king which supposedly will give the wielder a ghost army under their control, what warrior doesn’t want that? So now I know where it is I’m going after it.” Trevor narrowed his eyes as he looked at his friend. “So why don’t you give the key to me, you bastard.”

Bendul burst out in a roaring laughter and he hit the table with his fist. “It took you long enough to find out!”

“The old dagger of king G’narv was lost for generations,” Trevor said as he glared at his friend, although he wasn’t sure if he wanted to think about Bendul in that way much longer, especially with him laughing like that. “And you didn’t bother telling me that not only you know where it is, but you have the key to get there.”

“Ohh,” Bendul said as he tapped his belly. “That was funny.” He looked at Trevor and the scowl that indication how not amused Trevor was by it, which made it even more amusing for Bedul. “I was going to tell you,” he continued with an almost fatherly expression, “but I wanted to see how serious you were with your search.”

“You’re hilarious,” Trevor grumbled, but his scowl faded. It was impossible to stay angry at  the general, especially after all they had been through. “And?”

Bendul reached under his tunic and showed a simple brass key. He placed it in the middle of the table and looked at Trevor. “I’ve discover the tomb a moon ago and I found the key as well.” With two fingers he pushed the key towards Trevor. “You can have it if you want to, but it won’t be easy. There is a crypt in the forest, the key will fit on the lock of the door. You will enter a long corridor filled with Liadors.” At the mention of those creatures, Trevor showed signs of disgust, he hated those monkey-like creatures, they were deadly and smelled bad on top of that. “If you manage to go through you will find the dagger you desire,” Bendul continued, “but you’re not the first warrior to try.” They looked at each other with serious expressions. “If you want my advice, you could use some help. Maybe one of those Bardugs that are visiting our city, they know a Liador better than anyone else.”

“I’d rather die,” Trevor stated firmly. “I never needed anyone’s help and least of all I want it from those bloody Bardugs.”

“I knew you were going to say that,” Bendul sighed and he shook his head. “Tell me, Trevor, why do you want this dagger?”

“That is none of your business.”

“It won’t bring back your brother.”

A muscle twitched in Trevor’s jaw and he grabbed the key in a swift motion as he stood up. “I know that!” he growled as he walked away.

***

The next day Trevor stood in front of a white marble door with a lit torch in his left hand. The entrance to the crypt was made entirely of this precious stone and adorned with carvings mermaids, for whatever reason. It was something he could care less about and instead of wasting time looking at them, he took the brass key and put it in the lock. With a soft clicking sound he unlocked the door. As he carefully pushed it open his nose wrinkled in disgust. The smell of the Liadors came greeting him even before he set one foot inside. He drew his sword and went inside. One of the few things he knew about the Liador, other then their odour or appearance, was that they stayed away from sunlight, but they weren’t bothered much by the flickering flame of a torch. With careful steps he went down the stairs, holding both his torch and his sword in front of him. Aside from the scraping of his boots on the marble slabs it was completely silent. And he didn’t like that one bit. When he reached the end of the stairs and set his foot on the ground of the corridor he slowly moved his torch around in an attempt to see what was ahead, but he couldn’t see anything in the darkness ahead. Aside from bones, skulls and rusty swords on the ground. A determined expression came into his brown eyes. Liadors or not, he promised himself to get that dagger, so he would. He had to. Not only would obtaining this dagger be a feat that would make his name as warrior, he had to keep the promise to his brother.

A screech echoed through the corridor and something heavy dropped down on Trevor’s back. With a fast turn Trevor was able to shake it off before it could bite down or impale him with the large claws. The Liador ran up to Trevor on his arms and legs, but Trevor swung his sword and sliced across the chest, leaving a gashing wound. He didn’t look as the body fell down, but he turned to face the next of those creatures. One jumped up, but found its end on Trevor’s blade before it could sink its claws in Trevor’s flesh. A third one dropped down behind him and Trevor turned around while lifting his sword, but before he could strike the creature a claw scratched his chest. He uttered a groan as he bit his teeth and tightened his grip on the handle of the sword. With a swift motion he brought the blade down and party severed the head from the body. When he heard a hissing sound behind him he quickly turned around again and kicked the Liador back. Another came from the left and Trevor swung his torch to it, hitting it on the head. As the Liador yelped in pain, another clawed his arm.

Trevor let out a cry of pain and dropped his torch, but he stabbed the Liador before it could do any more damage. Slowly Trevor backed away towards the stair as he looked around. As far as he could see five more came towards him, hissing and baring their teeth. By the sounds of it there could be even more. He backed away even more, he knew he was good, but he wasn’t that good. Maybe Bendul was right, even if he hated to admit it. He kicked one of the Liador when it came too close and quickly made his way back up on the stairs. He would have loved to fight his way through the hoard of Liador, but it was hopeless. There were just too many. He closed the door behind him and locked it, after which he slid his sword back in the sheath and he turned around to lean against the door. For a moment he just stood there and looked up at the sky above him. It felt like failing and he hated that feeling. After a moment of standing like that, Trevor looked down at his chest and arm. The clothing was torn and red where the claws had struck and blood dripped from his left hand on the ground. With his fingers he examined the scratches on his chest, but it wasn’t deep enough to worry about it. Those in his arm were deep enough to need binding, so he tore some fabric from his shirt and with his hand and teeth he did the best he could to stop the bleeding. With that out of the way, he decided to return to the city.

***

Back in the city Trevor went to the palace where he knew Bendul would be. The guards at the entrance looked at Trevors bloody and torn clothes, but one glare from him stopped them from asking what had happened. Instead, they allowed him access to the palace. With big steps Trevor walked over the marble floor and he ignored the way the maids looked at him in horror. As far as he was concerned they could be glad he wasn’t dripping any blood on the floor. He went straight to one of the many doors in the corridor and opened it after two knocks, he didn’t care no-one gave him permission to enter yet, he almost never waited for that. Trevor walked inside and almost immediately noticed the general, but much to his surprise he could see a couple of Bardugs there as well. The usual Bardug weapons, a long iron pole with a crescent moon shaped blade on top and a heavy iron block on the bottom, stood against the wall. Trevor noticed two of them had a band around their arm in the exact same colour as the loincloth. He knew enough about the creature to know that they were leaders and instinctively he kept his hand close to his sword as he looked at them.

“I see you fought with the Liadors,” Bendul stated as he looked at Trevor.

“What gave it away?” Trevor asked sarcastically, knowing very well how he looked. He didn’t bother looking at his friend though, he kept his eyes on the Bardugs.

“Be glad you survived,” Bendul stated, followed by a sigh. “I know I am.” He looked at Trevor curiously. “Did you manage to get through?”

Now Trevor looked at Bendul and he shook his head. He would have loved to be able to show the general the dagger, but his first attempt was a failure. It stung to admit that to himself and he certainly didn’t feel for saying that out loud.

“That’s a shame, human,” a dark-brown Bardug with a red band around his arm spoke as he looked at Trevor with his black eyes. “General Bendul told us about your quest and-“

“You told them I was going for the dagger?” Trevor interrupted the Bardug as he glared at Bendul. “What made you think that is a good idea? Bardugs can’t be trusted!” A black Bardug dressed in just a green loincloth growled at that and Trevor glared at him instead. “Oh, don’t give me that, you don’t trust us anymore then we do you.”

The Bardug bared his teeth. “That is true, human,” he growled.

“Enough,” the dark-brown Bardug said with a strict look at the other Bardug, who lowered his head in acceptance. He then looked at Bendul. “It will take a while before trust will be able to exist between our species.”

That was something Bendul knew, even he sometimes had to remind himself the war was over. Some things weren’t easily forgotten and Trevor wasn’t the only one who held grudges. Even if Trevor seemed to be a master at that, but it wasn’t too surprising with what happened. The general looked at his younger friend. “They can help you get the dagger, my friend.”

Trevor opened his mouth to say he didn’t want their help, that he didn’t need their help and that he didn’t want to have anything to do with them. But he closed his mouth without saying a word. He knew his friend spoke the truth, Bardugs knew how to deal with Liadors better than anyone.

The Bardug in red clothing turned his head towards Trevor. “I can accompany you. I have no desire for the dagger, our people don’t like mingling with the deceased.”

“And how do I know you speak the truth?” Trevor asked with an ice-cold voice.

The Bardug straightened his back and looked at Trevor with a calm expression. “Because I will give you my word of honour.”

Trevor stared at the Bardug for a moment. He really didn’t want to do this, he didn’t trust them. He couldn’t trust them. But if he wanted to own that dagger and keep his promise, he had to. As much as he hated to admit it, asking a fellow human for assistance was a bigger risk. The word of honour of a human didn’t mean much, that was something he had learned the hard way. There were plenty of backstabbers, especially when a treasure of that scale was in the prospect. For a Bardug the word of honour was something important. On top of that, it wasn’t certain that one fellow human would get them through the Liadors. Everyone was silent as  they waited for Trevor’s decision. Trevor closed his eyes, took in a deep breath and nodded once. “Alright,” he said. “I…I could use the help.” He had never thought he would do this, accept the help of one of these creatures, but it was needed. The dagger was what mattered and if he had to sink to this level and accept someone’s help he would. And if that someone was a Bardug, so be it.

Together with the Bardug, Trevor returned to the entrance to the crypt. The Bardug had introduced himself as Graspal, to which Trevor had stated his name as well. Without a word Trevor took the key so they could enter. This was something he wanted to get over with as soon as he could. He didn’t like it one bit, having this Bardug standing next to him, but this was no time to be arrogant. Doing this by himself would only get him killed. The first time down that had proven that much. Absentmindedly he stroke over his chest where the clawmarks were still visible on his skin. It would probably leave a permanent scar, but he didn’t care much about it. When he felt the furred hand of Graspal on his shoulder he looked at him.

“I have one question before we enter,” Graspal said. “Why do you want this dagger? Do you wish to use its power for your own?”

At first Trevor didn’t answer, but then he shrugged. “I have a few reasons to go after the dagger. One is that it’s a prized possession. It’s one of a kind and it’s powerful. Many warriors have looked for it and attempted to get it and I want to be known as the warrior who succeeded. Secondly, I talked with a dwarf, a friend of mine. The dwarves will give a reward for anyone who brings the dagger back to them. The reward will contain gold, precious stones and a custom made armour of their finest materials. I’m planning to claim that reward. And lastly…” Trevor fell silent for a moment as his eyes fell to the ground. “When I first heard about it I was with my younger brother. We started to research the legend together and grew more and more enthusiastic about it. He died in the war against your people.” Trevor’s voice softened. “I watched him die, I held him in my arms. He told me I should leave the army, he could tell that life wasn’t for me, even if I was good at it. He told me I had to follow our dream to find the dagger. And I promised him I would find it. That was the last conversation we had.”

Neither of them spoke after Trevor stopped talking. Some birds high up in the trees paid no attention to them and continued chattering amongst themselves. Their happy tones didn’t seem in place, but birds were known for their indiscretion in these cases. “I see,” Graspal finally said and he nodded to Trevor. “I will deal with the Liadors, so you can go further and pursue your goal.”

“Will you be fine?” Trevor asked without looking at Graspal.

Graspal let out a roaring laughter. “They fear us, I will not have any difficulties with it. This is play-time for me.” He picked up his weapon and grinned. “Let us go inside.”

Once again Trevor opened the door and he lit a torch. Graspal went in first and Trevor followed behind with his sword ready. As they reached the bottom of the stairs it didn’t take long before the first Liador came, but unlike the last time its movements seemed hesitant. Graspal let out an ominous growl and the Liador hissed, but it remained where it was.

“Stay close,” Graspal instructed, unaware of the glare he received from Trevor. Even if Trevor didn’t like taking orders, he knew well enough if he wouldn’t do as Graspal said, the Liador would attack him.

As they slowly walked further down the corridor more Liador showed themselves, but the growling Bardug kept them away. One of them mastered enough courage and leaped forward to attack Trevor in the back, but Graspal turned swiftly and sliced the creature with his weapon. He let out a loud roar and the few Liador within eyesight fled away. Trevor knew they weren’t gone, but they were out of sight and that felt better. One thing Trevor noticed was that there were no skeletons in this part of the corridor. It was safe to say he was now further than any human before him, but he knew better then to let his guard down.

Finally they reached another door and Trevor grabbed the handle. He could still hear the sound of the creatures behind them and the stench was almost unbearable, but he was where he needed to be. He looked back at Graspal, who nodded at him.

“I will stay here and guard the entrance,” Graspal told him. “Be careful, if legend is correct the dagger will be guarded by its former master.”

Trevor nodded once and opened the door. Carefully he stepped into the chamber and he placed his torch in a holder next to the door. In the flickering light he could see a statue shaped like a mermaid with the dagger on her lap. Next to the statue of the mermaid was a statue of a warrior with the sword elevated above his head. Trevor took notice of everything in a single glance and started crossing the room.

Just before Trevor reached the dagger, a figure appeared. The figure emitted a light-blue light and had the short and broad shape belonging to a dwarf. Trevor raised his sword and pointed it at the figure. “I came for the dagger.”

“I know,” the figure spoke.

“Let me take it,” Trevor demanded.

“Proof your worth,” the figure retorted.

Trevor nodded once. “I will.”

The figure pointed to one of the statue of the warrior and with a roar it came to life. Instead of a marble statue it seemed like a real person now. Trevor watched as the warrior ran towards him and he swung his sword to block the incoming blade from the other. He looked at the warrior for a moment, before he pulled back and attacked. The room filled with the sounds of steel against steel as Trevor attacked the warrior or was forced to defend himself. They danced around each other as their swords cut through the air and their blades crossed. This warrior was good, Trevor didn’t mind to admit that to himself, but he was determined to win this. The muscles in his arm started to ache from the blows he gave and the blows he blocked. When he noticed the sword of the warrior come down, Trevor shouted as he put all his energy in his blow as he attempted to disarm his opponent. While the warrior held on to the sword, it gave Trevor an opening he needed. With a quick movement he brought his sword in position and thrust forward. The blade entered between the chainmail and the helmet and the warrior lowered his sword. Trevor panted as he looked at the warrior on the other side of his sword. Normally that would be a death blow, Trevor assumed the reason the warrior was still standing was that the warrior wasn’t really alive.

“Well done,” the translucent figure spoke. With a snap of his fingers the warrior walked back to his place next to the mermaid, raised his sword and turned back in a marble statue. He then gestured towards the dagger.

Trevor put his sword away and nodded, still panting. He walked up to the dagger and looked at it for a moment. The dagger had a black leather handle and the steel blade seemed as if it was forged just hours ago. In the blade, close to the handle, was a black stone. Trevor didn’t know what it was called, but the dwarves would know. He reached out and his fingers folded around the handle. He picked it up and looked at the dagger from all angles. He weighed it in his hand and checked the balance. It was a fine piece of craftsmanship, there was no argument there. When Trevor looked up he noticed the figure faded. He wasn’t sure how he felt, he was glad he finally held the dagger, but a part of him was sad the search for it was over. Most of all he felt gratitude he had been able to keep his promise. That is, if he managed to leave this place safely too. He put the dagger in his belt and crossed the room, as he left it he grabbed the torch and joined the Bardug.

“Ah!” Graspal said. “You were victorious. I heard you fighting.” His eyes moved down and settled on the dagger. “Is that the dagger?”

“It is,” Trevor said. “Let’s go.”

Together with Graspal, Trevor made his way back through the corridor. Just like the first time only few Liador were brave enough to come close, but if they didn’t meet their end on Graspal’s weapon, they did so on Trevor’s sword. They made their way to the stairs and walked up. The sunlight on the end of the stairs was a welcome sight and the smell of fresh air was even more welcome. Once outside, Trevor closed the door and locked it. As he put the key away he looked at Graspal. “I didn’t think I would ever say this to a Bardug, but thanks.”

“It was my pleasure,” Graspal replied and he smiled. “You have your dagger. Fame and fortune await you.”

Trevor nodded and he took the dagger from his belt. Fame and fortune awaited him, that was true. More importantly, he had kept his promise to his brother. He took in a deep breath and closed his eyes briefly as he held the dagger against his chest. Then he wrapped it in a cloth and hid it under his clothes. He knew he wouldn’t have been able to do this by himself and he looked at the Bardug. Once a sworn enemy and one of them was even responsible for his brothers dead, but at the same time he couldn’t have fulfilled this quest without this Bardug. “Thanks again,” he said to Graspal as he held out his hand.

Graspal took his hand and shook it. “I know you have reason to hate us and we have reason to hate humans. The war is still fresh in all our memories, but I wish to say I’m sorry for your brother on behalf of my kind.”

Trevor nodded once to accept the words. “Thank you. If there is something you need help with, let me know. I will repay the favour.”

After a nod of acknowledgement they went back to the city. Trevor couldn’t say he trusted the Bardug in general, he had seen too much of the war for that, but he was willing to trust this one. His hand moved to the place where the dagger was hidden under his clothes. One adventure was out of the way, the next could begin. There was a reward to claim after all, a fortune to gain. But that was for later, right now all he wanted was to sit back with his old friend, drink an ale and celebrate a job well done.


End file.
